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Rarely has world cultural history witnessed a journey as resilient and fraught with ups and downs as the struggle of the Korean people to protect their traditional New Year. For nearly a century, from the late feudal era to the modern economic boom, the Korean New Year (Seollal) was considered a symbol of "backwardness" and the government sought to eradicate it.
However, the vibrant spirit of cultural heritage triumphed over harsh decrees, creating an interesting situation today: Koreans celebrate the Lunar New Year twice, once for the start of the new administrative period and once for family reunions.
Although Sinjeong (the Gregorian New Year) has been officially recognized since 1896, Koreans have quietly preserved the traditional values of the lunar calendar for nearly a century.
The origins of this date back to 1896. King Gojong, the penultimate king of the Joseon dynasty, in an effort to integrate the country with Western standards, issued a decree adopting the Gregorian calendar and designating January 1st as the official start of the new year.
This decision immediately met with fierce opposition from the public, because for Koreans, the lunar calendar is not only a tool for measuring time but also a "guide" for the most important spiritual rituals such as Seollal and Chuseok. However, the real harshness only began when Japan occupied Korea in the 1930s. The colonial government attempted to eradicate the traditional Lunar New Year and replace it with Japanese customs, considering celebrating the Lunar New Year as an act of political resistance.
Despite being considered "backward" and facing numerous restrictions in the 1960s, Koreans did not forget their culture.
After liberation in 1945, it was thought that Seollal would regain his former status, but the reality was quite the opposite. Successive governments in South Korea, from President Syngman Rhee to Park Chung Hee, pursued extreme modernization modeled after Western and Japanese policies.
In the eyes of policymakers at the time, the Lunar New Year was labeled as "agricultural superstition" and an obstacle to labor productivity. In 1949, the Lunar New Year was officially removed from the list of national holidays. To tighten discipline, the government even ordered the closure of butcher shops and rice mills during the Lunar New Year to prevent people from preparing offerings for their ancestors.
Koreans are constantly reminded that January 1st is the holiday of "advanced countries," while the lengthy Seollal rituals are seen as an economically inefficient remnant of agricultural superstitions.
Under former President Park Chung Hee, the fight against the traditional Lunar New Year intensified. Viewing the abolition of the Lunar New Year as a cornerstone of national modernization, the government implemented a series of restrictive policies: reducing train services in and out of Seoul to prevent people from returning to their hometowns, imposing heavy fines on companies that gave employees holiday leave, and banning movie theaters from promoting Lunar New Year programs. In schools, principals were instructed to severely punish students absent on "unofficial holidays." State media flooded programs celebrating the Gregorian New Year (Sinjeong), while completely ignoring the traditional Seollal (Lunar New Year). Economic experts argued that a long holiday focused on family would disrupt the production cycles of a nation eager to join the ranks of developed countries.
Despite the bans and economic disadvantages, Koreans have quietly kept the flame of Seollal alive.
However, all administrative efforts had to yield to the power of the people and family tradition. Despite prohibitions and economic disadvantages, Koreans quietly kept the flame of Seollal alive. By the mid-1980s, sociological surveys revealed a shocking result: over 80% of the population still maintained rituals of worship and family reunions according to the lunar calendar. Factories began to close spontaneously as workers took mass leave to return to their hometowns. Faced with this unshakeable pressure, in 1985, President Chun Doo Hwan's government had to partially concede by recognizing the Lunar New Year as an official holiday, but giving it the less harsh name of "Folk Customs Day."
It wasn't until February 1989, exactly 93 years after King Gojong's decree, that the Lunar New Year was truly restored to its original name and status with an official three-day holiday. Even during the 1998 Asian financial crisis, when the government proposed cutting holidays to increase working hours, fierce public opposition kept the Seollal holiday intact. This nearly century-long journey to reclaim the Lunar New Year was not just a struggle for a holiday, but a battle to assert national identity against the pressures of cultural assimilation and economic pragmatism.
Today, Korean New Year culture is a unique blend of old and new. January 1st is considered a symbol of new beginnings, of work and future plans; while Lunar New Year is a sacred moment to connect with roots, ancestors, and enduring family values. Images of children in Hanbok bowing to elders (Saebe), the resounding bells at Bosingak Temple, and the lively folk games at the beginning of the lunar year are the most vivid evidence of the failure of any policy to erase culture. Koreans have proven that a nation is only truly modern when it knows how to cherish and preserve the traditional values that have nurtured its soul for thousands of years.
Traditional Korean Hanbok
